Come Here Sweet Thing
by bogglewoolf
Summary: “Lost to her own whims, object to her deepest fantasies.” Exploited. I want him to cover the carpet. I want him to dirty this room with passion. Gaila reveals her thoughts on her role as a lusty Orion. “Why would you aspire to feel small?”


"Come here sweet thing."

And it begins. And I do mean it. Sweet thing. He is sweet, an eccentric taste to my starved and humbled glands. "We long" they whisper. Hushing them, I beg of my presence to understand, to be humble and see that I cannot turn myself over to their every tug. A strand of sinew clamped tightly upon my navel, tugging me toward every outward display of interest. And in my mind I utter,

"I am better than this." And each time I am accosted with proof of his pleasure, I search for the validation, or even joy, and it eludes me.

Gaila. Silly girl. Undefined by color. Lusty, buxom Orion. Easy roommate to the mesmerizing entity Nyota Uhura. A cheap sex toy. "Lost to her own whims, object to her deepest fantasies."

Exploited. And thoroughly loving every second of it. Not all lies to be sure. The crazed, frenzied moments gained through the act of unattached "fucking". The verb with all its lacking emotional intimacies to be surely applied to each man and the revelries to be sought out through him. And yet, I disagree respectfully. We are not two bodies performing meaningless acts of vulgarity. Far from that spectrum. This cadet. He glows so beautifully and I hurry him to my quarters. Nyota, the cheeky Vulcan seductress, dutifully could be found teasing the lifeless to animation in his chambers and so our room is an open invitation.

I want him to cover the carpet. I want him to dirty this room.

I need him to be primal, so animalistic I will cower and from the darkness emerge radiant and powerful, for only here can I demonstrate my true unique potential. Many talents can be discovered out of a classroom.

"No, you will come." He snickers and I momentarily am disgusted by this boy. A boy at nineteen. And as soon as I was possessed I am exercised and I welcome him into me with a tight grip and a low moan.

I am a wild thing, I think as I am thrown to the bed. I reach my hands up and pull him down upon me, laughing as he smiles. The smile is my justification and my doctrine; I fear and abide by it. He rubs his cock against my mouth as I am juxtaposed beneath his frame. I get the gist of this erotic sign language. I take him in my mouth. I enjoy it enough and when I feel he is ready to burst I stop. I look him deep in his dilated pupils and it is only in this trademark moment that they are truly privy to Gaila beneath the assumed and front. I give them this as a gift because their throbbing, needy, hungry members are insignificant to me. This is what I think in the midst of what is surely mind blowing oral for Cadet Nameless. I am confidant in my abilities and I have earned this arrogance. I feel no shame in my glee at sex and its connotations.

I enjoy sex. I do. Oh how I do. I am horny at the mere thought of my attachment to the act, not the men.

Yes, I am still soul gazing with this dickhead and he is begging me in silence to finish it, to end the agony of waiting. His eyes tell me he has been waiting his whole life. The way he looks me deep into my eyes makes me wish to weep. This would spoil the mood so I simply take him in my mouth yet again and allow him to cum down my throat, coating my mouth with the gummy shreds of his specimen. He collapses beside me.

"Whoa. That was fuckin' mind blowing. Damn." He breathes this. I inhale it and his admission fills me more than he did. He rests and he turns to me, eyes peaceful and expectant and exhilarated. His trigger finger sharp tongue trails down my body and licks my bellybutton, the creases where my thigh meets crotch. I am impressed with the dedication he appears to posses in attempting to arouse me. I am pleased he cares for my own climax. In his selflessness he traces these creases with his fingers, delicately and while I appreciate the gesture, it is suggestive and I urge him downward. Such gentle appraisal merely instills intimacy to the situation.

This situation could not possibly be more intimate, of course, as he is solely in my bedroom to fuck me silly. But surely you understand. Intimacy is the dividing line between kneading my breasts and kissing my ears. Tender should never be a word associated with the acts committed in this room. Of which there have been many.

Cadet Curved Penis parts the curtains and enters that pleasure-induced room. He laps at the walls and slowly, finds his way to the center. And with an arched back and exaggerated gasp, he has found the gold star and, fuck; he's going for the gold.

"Yes! Oh fuck! Go deeper!" I urge him and his tongue's motion becomes frenzied.

My climax is inevitable. I need not dictate my final descent to that wonderful white place where I am tingling and a swell of fond affection for whoever is lying besides me takes hold. I roll over and allow him to cuddle me, as he assumes I expect from him. It is in this moment when I feel love. A love which scrambles its way to the very tip of my mouth and luckily, I can catch it before it free falls into a scary and uninviting atmosphere. This is the moment where my unbridled love threatens to undo me. Now I return to the bubbly flirty girl I am, yes, I am and I giggle softy into his ear and tell him how good he was. Nyota will soon return with news of yet another failure to seduce our great Commander Spock into an act of primal connection. Ten more minutes I will revel in this man.

He is a man, I can see now. I am thankful for his presence.

"What are you gonna do?" I whisper into his ear. He shivers. I tuck myself further into the folds of his neck.

"What am I gonna do about what?" Softly. Ever so softly. He must feel the delicacy of the moment.

"What are you gonna do about everything?" I giggle because I am serious. He does not laugh or make any noise. He appears contemplative rather than distant.

"I am going to continue making love to beautiful girls. Hopefully to you. I'm gonna go to see the cosmos in its entirety through a view screen and feel small. These are the only things I have planned for the next ten years." He then laughs and I realize these are the only things he wants. So simple. Debasingly truthful. This one is tricky.

"Why would you aspire to feel small?" A true question. No girly change in pitch; I am leveling with him and feel curiosity.

"Because to aspire to feel big is to aspire to death. Have you heard of a man reaching the top and being satisfied? Of course not. Once at the top there is nothing left to experience above because you are the heavens now. Nothing to experience below because you have seen the greatest glories offered and anything lesser is insubstantial. Better to aspire to feeling small and grateful, wouldn't you say?" He laughs again and I hush him.

"Do not laugh. The things you've just told me are beautiful and I want you to tell them to me in absolute truth. Laughing spoils it." I smile. A slow smile creeps on his face and I lean forward to kiss him. Gently. Tenderly. Intimately. I cannot believe this soul sought me out.

The girl who is notorious for sucking off anything which stumbles across her path. He said, "make love to beautiful girls." He believes we have made love.

"Do you believe we have made love?"

"Isn't that what I said to you."

"Yeah."

"What is the question?"

"Why did you come back to my room and have sex with me? It was obviously not mindless." This much is clear. He smiles. I brush his lips with my thumb. He kisses the pads of my fingers.

" I came back to your room because you asked me."

"I did not ask you!" I squeal this and am ashamed at the rise in tone, the shrill inclination of my voice. I don't want to sound this way.

"Oh, yes you did. You had a medley of men surrounding you and you asked me. You pleaded with me even. We had an entire conversation and we even realized we'd known each other for years when our eyes met. That is why I came back to your room." I snuggle my head into his chest and we fold our hands together and I slide the heel of his ankle between my toes and I thank him with my hair in his face.

This was meaningful. He is the first man to sleep with me in this context; sweet caresses and fluttery kisses. It is unbearably new to me and I fall asleep regretful at the savage way I rode him earlier. The next time I would allow for foreplay and I will stroke his hair.

We awake the next morning, Nyota never having returned. Cheers girl! on landing that one. We walk to a café and I order a croissant and he orders a scone. We share and I nearly laugh at the absurdity of this. I lean forward and take his hand.

"Feed me." He laughs. Cadet Klumac laughs. I knew his name the whole time. Gotcha.


End file.
